Sleeping Beauty Revisited
by francis2
Summary: Extension of Episode 10 "Sleeping Beauty" in Mick's and Josef's POV.
1. Mourning Mick's POV

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Moonlight, I just play with the characters.**

It's almost dawn. Driving alone through the night, I target on my apartment. I am dead tired. How can all of this fit into just one day? Coraline is alive, but human and very sick. Josef is dead.

Thinking back I wonder why I am still this calm, this disimpassioned.

I had just retired to my freezer, when my phone woke me up again. It was Josef's emergency ringtone, but it wasn't Josef calling. His security guard told me with trembling words that there was an explosion in Josef's office and gave me a chance to see the place. I took it.

When I got there after the police left, I hardly felt anything; I just tried to take in as much information as possible to find out what happened, as I was in a stage of grief somewhere between denial and anger.

I crouched on the grey floor littered with debris. The place was trashed: burned cables, decomposed panels, smashed leftovers of exquisite furniture, empty frames, tiny shards of the wall-to-wall windows. The UV-protective foil that had been installed to cover the window glass flagging in the wind. The brass artwork in the entrance was only a blistering mass of metal. The expressionistic mural that had covered the central part of the ceiling was raining down in rainbow colored particles. The walls of his inner sanctum were carrying the shattered remains of the high end flat monitors, now black and motionless.

Everything was drenched in stale sprinkler water that didn't have much of a chance, as the place had burnt down almost instantly. It was eerily quiet, and the place smelled of scorched wood, damp plaster, molten plastic, and underneath it all, a whiff of charcoaled bone.

I took a broken glass vial into my hands and sniffed the AB negative. Josef's favorite. There had been three; Tim, Dan and Josef. I had been invited, too, but had called to say I wouldn't come. I had been up all day with Morgan – no, Coraline, and was exhausted after the games she played with me all day, drained by the sudden clarity of knowing her identity and the realization of what this could entail. I was still reeling from the vengeful rage of Beth that resulted in taking Coraline's mortal, dying frame to the ER.

But I didn't think about that while I explored the ruined office. I was left alone there, and I wanted to be alone for a while, take it in, get a grip on myself. I still tried to make myself believe that somehow this didn't happen, that Josef hadn't been here, that this was all a big mistake or a bad joke. Whatever.

Of course I wouldn't find any clues in the debris, as the victims had been blown to ash; they covered the floor, spread out over the whole office area that Josef had used as a secondary home. Not even a distinct pile of matter to place into an urn, to have a place to remember Josef by. The remaining bone fragments weren't enough to fill a tea cup, and certainly not enough for three.

In some way, I was glad. Had there been more, such as visible fangs in a residue of skull, I would have had the sorry duty to destroy the evidence.

Suddenly I smelled Beth behind me, and glanced over my shoulder. How was she always first at a new crime scene? Everyone else I could have just evicted with some borrowed authority, but not her. I almost felt sorry for Ltn. Carl. On the other hand, she was the only one I could talk to openly. I just wasn't sure I wanted to talk now.

"It was poker night. I was supposed to be here."

"I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, me too."

She pulled me into a short conversation about the crime scene, but I saw movement at the corner of my eyes. A camera. She brought a camera man! This was a crime scene, for crying out loud! I wasn't even remotely ready, still trying to find something, anything, to explain what happened. I snapped at her. Not in the mood to argue with her any more, and wary of the hurtful things I might say to her if I went on, I left in a hurry.

After driving for a while, I finally reach my destination and step into the elevator. Smooth metal walls surround me. There is still some residue of Josef's smell inside, and I realize he must have been here yesterday. He always makes himself at home at my place, whether I am there or not.

Made. Not makes. Suddenly it hits me. He is gone. I will never hear his snarky comments on my foolish endeavors again. He will never give me his unwelcome advice that always turns out to be in my best interest. Never again will we reminisce about the good times we spent together, I will never hear more stories about his earlier years. Not that he revealed much of substance in the anecdotes he shared with me. I never got a clear picture of him. I always tried to figure him out, never succeeded.

He had been such a constant presence in my life.

And now my life would be empty, broken like his office, empty shards, molten memories, just litter fluttering around in the wind. God, I really need a drink.

Stepping out of the elevator I catch a whiff of perfume, of summer sun and honey. Beth. She sits in front of my door as if she is afraid to miss me going in. How long has she been waiting there? She looks forlorn and sad. I need to apologize for my foul mood at the office, but she starts her apology for bringing a camera at the same time. I think to myself it's okay now, really.

I realize that I am relieved she is here. She is the only friend I have left, and I need to get the hurt out, or it will consume me.

So I try to explain how I feel. She understands. She always understands me, even if I don't talk. I try hard not to cry, but the tears just start falling. And then she takes a step forward and hugs me. And I remember that first time, when I carried her out of the burning building, and the other night she got up from my couch after the college student almost killed her. But this time she is the one giving comfort. For a moment I almost feel as if I can go on living.

I invite her in for a drink. Somehow I don't want to be alone tonight, like all the other nights, and I open the door.

Josef sits in my swivel chair, at my computer, in my robe, drinking my stash of blood. How could that be?

I am really relieved now that Beth is here, because otherwise I surely would have killed him for doing this to me.


	2. Running Josef's POV

Disclaimer: Moonlight isn't mine. I just play with it.

I wonder how much of the rumor about naked joggers in nightly LA came from vampires that were running away after being blown up. I had escaped the fire by jumping out of the building. 19th floor. Well, in 400 years you pick up some cool moves. Guess I was a bit rusty in the long distance jumping department, but I didn't mean to get scores for performance.

The unbreakable windows had been conveniently shattered by the heavy duty explosives that this black clothed janitor had thrown at my poker table.

How did that freak get in, and who sent him? Hold that question for another time.

I was running through empty streets at 3 in the morning. Where to now? Better not home to the Hollywood hills, as I didnt know if any of my staff was involved in this. Mick was a logical choice, I could trust him.

I was speeding a little so people would only get a blurred image, almost as if photography was still done the old way. But I couldn't go much faster; I was exhausted, the tattered remains of my silk shirt and underwear were clinging to the seeping sores on my back and ingraining themselves into the partially healed lesions. It hurt like hell when I moved and I would have to cut the cloth out of my skin. Rats.

The worst part was the growing bloodlust that I couldn't control much longer. A passer-by would be in danger not of his eyeballs falling out at my sight but of being eaten alive. Luckily it wasn't far to Mick's place. Let's just hope his pet human isn't around.

I left his private elevator and knocked, but he wasn't there. I could smell that he left only a short time ago, upset and in a hurry. He probably went to see my office. Well, that spared me some humiliation now. I broke into his loft by using the override code I got from rider as I didn't have the key with me.

First things first, I pushed the empty glass thingies out of the way and took some blood out of his fridge. A positive. Well, beggars can't be choosers. I drank two pints while I tried to get as much of the molten rags as possible off my skin.

Shower was next. Entering his bathroom upstairs I smelled a woman. Curious as I am I inhaled. Morgan-Coraline. When I touched the shower door I saw a glimpse of a naked wet Cora, beautyful as ever, and half naked Mick clinging to her desperately. Wow, so she got him back. I need to pester him until he tells me the whole story.

He had called me earlier to tell me in telegraph style what had happened between Cora and Beth. How I wished now I had been there. Must have been interesting.

A little subzero sleep would be heaven now but I couldn't. Vamp etiquette 101 – don't sleep in your best friend's freezer without his consent. I wasn't one to play by the rules normally, but I needed his help and shouldn't piss him off too much today.

So I showered and managed to get some more splinters and cloth pieces out, then I took Mick's robe from a hook, filled my glass with more of the stale blood Mick drinks constantly and hacked into his computer to see if news of my untimely demise already had reached the public.

I suddenly heard the elevator. I sniffed. Beth. Oh, I better stayed silent. No need to tell her yet that I live. I want to know how she reacts when she gets to know. She would make a good vamp, really, she can smell a rat from a mile away, and she seems to be fearless beyond reason.

Another ping of the elevator. Mick. Finally. Why don't they come in? I can hear their conversation clearly. They apologize to each other, how cute. I know it's not nice to eavesdrop but whoever labeled me nice was dead wrong.

I am almost moved when Mick starts to cry over me, I can smell his tears and almost get up to tell him it's okay. But then Mick opens the door. I pull the robe together for Beth's sake. No need to lead her into temptation.

I install my little boy smile. "You're gonna stand there all day or you're gonna come in and find out who killed me?"

Mick looks as if he would like to finish what the attacker started. This is gonna be fun.


	3. Dealing Mick's POV

Dealing

Dealing

Mick's POV

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I didn't have to, but still: Just when I thought the worst thing I could think about had happened, it got weird. There he was, with his lopsided grin, his mussy hair, and his sarcastic remarks. He wasn't dead.

It took some moments to register that he surely had heard us outside and didn't move a muscle to let us know. What was he thinking? I had been baring my soul to Beth, and he just sat there and grinned. I wanted to punch him. But I also wanted to hug him, ask if he was okay. I just couldn't speak.

Then I heard Beth closing the door. I almost forgot about her. Josef stood up, and I came out of my stupor. I searched him for signs of what happened, and asked „How…" Still was at a loss what to say.

He told me he fell out of the window. He fell? Did he jump, did he fly? He didn't make sense. He voiced one of his sarcastic apologies that weren't really apologetic: „I was a bit disheveled afterwards and lost my phone. So, sorry for trespassing into your loft without notice."

I uttered a short bitter laugh. „You always invade my space without notice."

Tell me something new, Josef, I thought.

I invited him in and walked first. I needed some space to get my brain to work. He wasn't dead. He escaped. He wore my robe, and I could smell burnt fabric in my loft. I offered to lend him some clothes. When he told me that he healed I frowned at the implications and whipped my head around. „How did you heal from a fire?" I asked. No vampire I have ever known could heal from a fire within such a short time. I still wondered how Coraline escaped at all. Now the second time a vampire I knew healed from a fire without a scar. I needed to know.

But he didn't answer my question with more than a hint on his age. Do older vampires have additional powers? I gave up the thought of pestering him about that when I remembered that Beth was standing there. She shouldn't have to deal with vampire business more than she already had, so I dropped the questions.

But Beth didn't. I should have known. „So, you recovered from all of this without a scar?"

He told her that he healed after feeding, and offered to show her. I was tempted to throw him into the nearest wall, but reminded myself that he was just pulling my legs. Beth blushed, and the rush of blood into her face made my teeth ache. I actually wished that Josef was gone to deal with Beth, and that Beth was gone to deal with Josef. Having both here at the same time just overrode my hospitality. They just were too much.

Josef had the bad taste to laugh at the face I was sure I made. He was still taking all of this like just a nice joke that made his life entertaining for a while.

Because it was a chance to get him alone, I offered to go upstairs and give him some clothes. And it would prevent him from actually flashing something to Beth. I just wanted to protect her modesty. He didn't have one. I didn't know what Beth would do while we were upstairs, she must have felt a bit left out, but I couldn't help it. I heard her go to the kitchen, maybe she was searching for something to eat. I had a bottle of soda and some apples, not very substantial for a hungry human. I needed to stock up for her. She was here a lot of time.

I took some clothes out for Josef. He would need something to keep the pants up, but I didn't have suspenders like the ones he always wore. He was a belt AND suspenders kind of guy.

I turned around and briefly wondered what he was used to wear when he was younger. Probably ruffles, wigs and leather breeches. I hoped my shoes fit him. He didn't talk. Now was the opportunity to ask the questions I couldn't ask with Beth around.

But all I could think about was: „Did you hear us out there?"

He admitted it. I was embarrassed, and slightly angry. „Why didn't you say something?"

He hesitated, then grinned. „I just wanted to know how Beth reacted."

Okay, so he played with me just to see what Beth would say? I looked down. What a jackass. He didn't even realize how much he meant to me, how much his behaviour hurted me. He was just out for some fun, reveling in the mayhem that his dissappearance caused, making fun of my concern for him. I left him to let him dress. There was no point in talking anymore.

Going downstairs I find Beth sitting on the couch. She expectantly looks up to me. „Maybe we should start to look into this together." she offered. I really wanted to kiss her for this. She always made me feel like I got my life back under control. I quickly get my laptop from the office and insert the disk with the surveillance tape that Tom gave me. We watch the footage once, then I put it on loop.

„There's one instant when we can see his face." she said. She was very observant. „Maybe there's a chance that Josef knows her." I answered.

Josef came downstairs buttoning up the shirt. I let him have my place at the laptop to speed things up. I asked him if he knew the guy, but he shook his head.

Beth asked about his friends. That was a dangerous topic. Josef wasn't one to show vulnerability in public, and Beth was public. He quipped one of his usual sarcastic remarks, but for the first time I got the impression that this whole scenario bothered him more than he was letting on. I reminded him that he was safe as long as he stayed here in my apartment and nobody knew he was alive. By now he had his mask back on, he commanded me in no uncertain terms to find the assassin as soon as possible. He actually thought he could order me around, but of course I let him. He was my friend, and I wanted to find this killer, too. If only for getting Josef out of my hair again, which was probably something we both needed.

Ryder obviously did something stupid and was out of the picture, but Beth offered to ask some hacker at Buzzwire to help us find the man. I have to admit I hurried to leave. Josef's lackadaisical approach to this was getting on my nerves. I told him to stay at my place. I thought he would find something to entertain himself without me, and hoped he left my bar alone. After all, we wouldn't be gone for long, and then I would see Josef alone and could finally kill him.


	4. Investigating Josef's POV

Investigating

**Investigating**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with the characters.**

Mick stands there as if he was rooted. Beth recovers first and closes the door behind them. How considerate – I am only in a robe, and I was starting to feel the draft. Not that I would catch a cold, but still.

I stand up from behind his desk, and Mick looks me over, open-mouthed. „How…" he chokes on the words.

„I managed to fall out of the window, Mick. It's almost like flying, I can tell you. But I was a bit disheveled afterwards and lost my phone. So, sorry for trespassing into your loft without notice."

He huffs. „You always invade my space without notice." He makes a helpless gesture towards his living room and walks through the short corridor with hesitating steps. Beth follows on his haunches. I slowly pick up my drink and walk behind Beth, taking in the view and trying to look as if nothing irregular had happened.

Beth is all but forgotten at the moment. I wonder how she takes it. But out of the corner of my eyes I can see that she is intrigued by the way this story unfolds, and wants to know more.

Mick stands at the base of his staircase. „You might need some clothes. Where are yours?"

I motion to the kitchen counter where the acrid smelling pieces of rags are still lying in a heap.

„I took the liberty to take a shower. It was actually a bit painful to heal from that."

He picks up on this. Of course he would. „How did you heal from a fire?" he asks incredulously.

I shrug. „With age comes power. And I wasn't burning much, but my suit was. I pulled it off as soon as I could. Pity, it was Armani."

Beth steps up from behind me and looks me over like I am her newest pet project. „So you recovered from all of this without a scar?"

„As I said, I didn't burn – much. My skin healed when I raided the vegan blood Mick stores in his fridge. You wanna see for yourself?"

I motion as if I was about to throw off the robe. Mick glares daggers at me, and Beth actually blushes. I throw my arms up and laugh, the first laugh I have since my office blew up, and it feels great.

„Don't worry, Beth, I am way beyond the time when I excelled in scaring humans just for the fun of it. But, Mick, could you lend me something to wear? It doesn't have to be Armani, you know."

„Come on up, then." Mick says and sprints up the stairs. I follow him. I sense a pattern here. When did I become the one to follow? But as long as he doesn't rip my head off, I will gladly do as he says.

I can hear Beth rummaging through the kitchen, maybe she is busying herself with cleaning up my mess. It's always nice to have someone else doing that for you. Maybe she would be good as a Cleaner.

Mick is busy taking an assortment of clothes out of his closet. Nice dark trousers, a blue striped shirt, boxers, socks, shoes. The shirt will be a bit too big for me, but I don't mind. Beggars can't be choosers.

Mick looks at me as if he wants to say something. I stare back to make him.

„Ahm, did you hear us out there?"

I tilt my head. „Yes."

He looks at his shoes, embarrassed. „Why didn't you say something?"

I grin half-heartedly. This is awkward, and I love awkward, but I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. I want to say „I needed to hear this. Thank you, friend." but I just couldn't.

„I just wanted to know how Beth reacted."

Mick is hurt. I can see it in his slumped shoulders, his empty eyes. But he turns away to let me get dressed in peace, and I push my wayward thoughts about apologizing into the back of my skull. Beth is here, and today I already met my quota on vulnerability for the rest of the century.

When I come back down, Mick has taken his laptop to the couch, and he and Beth are watching something. Mick stands up immediately and offers me his place. I see that it is the surveillance footage of the corridor in front of my office.

Okay, so Mick wants to do his „I am a professional and we will solve this crime before we solve this emotions" schtick. I will play along. I know, men never talk about emotions, but in 400 years I learned that forcing a man to deal with them can be a lot of fun. And Mick is a great victim. But for now, we have more pressing things to talk about.

Mick asks me if I recognize the guy, but I don't. The man is human, and he has military gear, but how in hellfire did he know I am a vampire?

Beth asks if my friends were vampires too. Ouch. I totally forgot about Tim and Dan. They burned to ash while I escaped. It's not as if there was some vampire memorial anywhere to remind them by. Pity, Tim was quite a good poker player. And a good lawyer. Dan was one of my computer wizards. I will miss them.

I suddenly get really angry at the thought of what this little sh-t cost me. Not only my poker buddies. My office, my reputation, lots of money, an unexpected and unwanted holiday. Now because of this very public way to assassinate me everybody thinks I'm dead. My voice is more strained than I wanted it to be when I state this facts.

Mick reminds me that it has to stay that way, otherwise I won't be safe. I ask him to find that assassin so I can go on with my life as it was. I cannot afford to be found in this state. I cannot afford anybody of the vampire world to know how close a human came to killing me.

We discuss who can help to find this guy, and as Ryder is out of town Beth offers the help of one of her hacker buddies.

I almost thank her. Wait, I am top of the food chain, I don't have to thank her. After all, she is curious about this, maybe wants to make it into a story, so why should I thank her?

Mick is positively giddy to have another chance to go somewhere with Beth. He should really seal the deal, this gets ridiculous. But then he does something that blows me away: He grounds me. He tells me in no uncertain terms that I have to stay here. What a wacko! He cannot order me around just because he is my friend.

While he is out playing detective, I settle in his library and try to distract myself with a book. It's boring. So I take my time to plan a comeback on him instead. This is gonna be fun.


	5. Waiting Josef's POV

Waiting

**Waiting**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I just play with them.**

Mick has all the fun in life. I am sitting here alone in his library and bored to death, while he is out playing detective with his human Blondie.

I have tried to read, but found nothing appealing to me. I raided Mick's collection of CD's, but Mick's taste in music was somewhat contradictory to mine. After that I went through his bar and poured myself a scotch, and rearranged the empty and totally bootless glass thingies in his kitchen just for the fun of it. Then I layed down on his couch to catch up on some sleep, but it was too warm for my taste and I couldn't find any rest. My thoughts began to circle again around the question who of my many foes had found such a colorful way to bring my life to an end, and who of them would go so far as to employ a human assassin instead of doing it himself. All of this lead to nothing.

I missed my blackberry. I couldn't even make some deal or plan some meeting anymore. I turned on the TV set and searched for a channel with actual news, such as the state of the nikkei, but there was nothing worthwile on at the moment. Only mindless game shows, boring soaps, 24 hours news, animal documentaries and unrealistic fake reality shows. I longed to watch something entertaining, like a rerun of StarTrek or Prison Break or Moonlight, but nothing was on.

After two hours of running a hole through the carpet I gave up. I went into Mick's office and dialed a number that I knew by heart. Karl immediately answered the phone. „Karl." One-word answer, as always.

„Josef here." I could hear him taking an unnecessary breath. „Are you all right, sir?" he asked, speaking so low that a human wouldn't hear him. Good boy.

„I am all right. I just have to hide until this is resolved. Are you alone?"

„No, sir."

„Go somewhere else."

I heard him obey without a single word. He never said anything more than necessary.

„I'm here, sir."

„Karl, I want you to keep this a secret. Please drive Mira, Annie and Sweety to Mick's loft. Don't tell the driver, just do it yourself. Take the Bentley. Don't tell them anything until you are alone with them."

„Clear, sir." he hesitated.

„What?" I was irritated. He never hesitated.

„I am glad you are alive, sir." he said, voice almost strained, and hung up on me.

He never hung up on me.

Had I offended him? Did I do something wrong?

No time to dwell on that now. I had a party to plan. Taking out some glasses and lining up the alcohol from Mick's bar I grinned. The music problem would be solved as soon as Annie came in. She always took a CD-sampler with her. And when Mick came back he would probably be thirsty and I could taunt him with one of my girls. Mira was a beautiful brunette. This was gonna be fun.


	6. Hurting Josef's POV

Hurting

**Hurting**

The elevator pinged and I opened the door to let Mira, Annie and Sweety in. I lounged at the doorframe, admiring my three little ladies who took up some kind of female swagger upon seeing me watching them.

They were so magnificient. Sweety was blonde and lithe, dressed in a flittery green dress that could have been from the 20s. Despite her being blonde and fair skinned she reminded me of Josephine Baker in the way she moved and in her activism against racism that she pursued at college. I could totally see her adopting a rainbow coalition of children like Josephine did.

Annie was a beautiful brunette, dressed in a flowing gown that left not much to imagination. She moved with grace and was a playful seductress. Of course she knew that I would never cross that line, but she liked to flirt. She was on her way to become the manager of a music studio, and her taste in music was excellent. She was an expert in the newest bands and always had an assortment of CDs with her.

Mira was a redhead and a bit on the shy side. She worked hard to become a doctor, and without my protection she wouldn't have the funds to study so much. She didn't have much self esteem, but to be with my other freshies had improved that somewhat. They always relied on her intelligence to solve problems amongst them, and that gave her a boost. But she wasn't really comfortable with my lifestyle. I knew though that she would protect me and the other girls with claws and teeth if necessary.

They smiled and kissed me on the cheek. Mira immediately came to the point. „Josef, we heard that your office was blown up. So you haven't been there?"

I smiled. „No, sweetheart, I wasn't there. And I want you to keep that to yourself, please, until the culprit is found. You understand?"

„Of course, Josef." The others nodded, with a solemn expression.

I turned around and with a wide gesture invited them in. „No more thoughts about unpleasant happenings, ladies, make yourself at home. Annie, I am sure you have some nice music for us. What do you want to drink?"

They gave me their choices and I fixed four drinks. Annie chose some modern version of a disco beat and immediately began to dance. I lounged down in one of Mick's comfortable armchairs and told the others to dance, too. Mira giggled, but Annie took her arm and slowly helped her to lose some inhibitions.

Sweety only danced for a short while, then she sat down at the armrest of my chair and laid her sweet little arm around my shoulders. „You hungry?" she whispered.

I immediately felt my fangs drop down. She smelled delicious, and she was so eager to please me, it was intoxicating. I pulled her onto my lap and ran my nose along her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling her pulse. She sighed. My eyes turned silver, the colours shifted as usual, and I could see the heat of her blood through her skin. I watched her closely, running my hands up and down her arms to keep her calm and comfortable. When I sensed that she was totally relaxed I tilted my head and bit down. She moaned. I drank her in, feeling her admiration and friendship fill me. After that she stayed at the armrest for a while, and the others danced on. The music turned to another beat, and even Mira began to loosen up. We chatted and had a good time, the view of the two dancing beauties was spectacular. I just wanted to forget all about the killer for a moment, and I enjoyed every minute.

Suddenly Mick came in. I greeted him: „Hey, you're back." Maybe I could invite him to take Mira, she would be just his type. But as soon as I saw his face I knew that he wasn't in the mood.

He stomped to the remote and shut off the sound system. „Sorry, party's over." He overlooked my girls with a condescending and authorative air. But his focus was on me. He stared into my face, challenging me to say something.

The girls were taken aback by his aggressive behaviour. Sweety looked as if she was about to cry. She nervously combed her fingers through her hair and tried to crawl into me. The others stood around, rooted, trembling. They had done nothing wrong. They hadn't even known it was his apartment, but now they obviously felt guilty for coming to Mick's place.

I suddenly had the wish to punch Mick in the face.

I stood up and in a low voice tried to reason with him. I even tried to make a joke to get him to loosen up a bit. To no avail. He wanted them gone, preferably now. Okay, it was his loft. I apologized to my girls. I knew that Karl would wait outside for them, so I didn't have to worry, but this was still awkward. And my reputation was hurt. Mick ordered me around like a school boy. It stung.

When they were gone, kissing me goodbye like they were used to, I closed the door and turned around. Mick immediately went at it. He was pissed. He was concerned that the girls would tell someone, and that the killer would wreck his precious little haunt, too. What a jackass. He didn't even trust me to think about it. Just like he was the only intelligent vampire on the planet. Who did he think he was? How did he imagine that I lived this long without him to tell me what to do?

Well, he had a point, I didn't realize that he as my friend and as the one who investigated this whole mess would be in danger too. But that wasn't my fault, was it?

But the worst was when he accused me of not thinking about him, of not caring. He was my friend, wasn't he? I ran to HIM after the office burned down, didn't I? He is the one person I trusted with my life all this time, and now he accused me of not caring about him. That hurt. Badly.

I made light of it. I always do when something really gets to me. Habit, I guess. „Well, I get lonely, man. You know that."

„Yeah. I'm beginning to see why."

Ouch.

We both looked away. But then he became all professional again. I guess that's his way of dealing with awkward situations.

He told me he found the assassin's name. Ralf Martan. A mercenary, Afghanistan. I remember Afghanistan from when I accompanied the british invasion in 1839. Nice country, the opium trade made me rich again after I lost everything in the french revolution.

I didn't recognize the name; I still had no clue, and it angered me. I wanted this mess to be cleared, so I could carry on.

The assassin made me think that it could be a human wanting my head. Who could do something like that? There were lots of names on my „wanting to kill me" list. Could it be Whitley? After his wife died he probably tried to settle some debts. I had to get to my office.

Mick of course was totally taken aback. Seems like he still doesn't get that I am not his lackey. He behaves like my parent. Not even my bodyguards would have such an attitude. They would be dead before morning.

I argue with him, tell him I need cash, but of course he doesn't believe me. He is too smart for that. He thinks I have a deadwish or something. Suddenly he stops the argument by going to bed. I am dead tired too, but there is no guest freezer. When I ask him what to do he tells me to tidy up. Okay, the immaculate state of his loft is more important than the comfort of his best friend. Seems I really managed to piss him off. I will have to work to get back into his good graces. This is gonna be fun.


	7. Venting Mick's POV

Venting

**Venting**

Mick's POV.

I was on my way back to my apartment, to rescue Josef from the boredom that surely must have its grip on him by now. I had dropped Beth off at her car in front of my building. She wanted to go home and get some sleep, it was already late. I had slept yesterday morning while she was at work, and in the afternoon we met at Coraline's bed. All of this seemed to be far away now. Josef's case was on the forefront of my consciousness.

I was so busy mulling over the information about the attacker in my head that I almost missed the fact that the elevator smelled strange. When I left at my floor, I could hear loud music out of the loft. The door was open. Why the hell had Josef the door open? Then I smelled the females.

Seething angry I had to stop and ball my fists to get some control back. How could he? He was supposed to keep his sorry a safe in my loft, not invite others in. And to leave the fing door open! Was I the only adult here?

I slowly walked towards the door and waited, hoping to alert him to my presence and to get him to stop whatever they were doing in there that I might not want to run in on.

I threw the door fully open. Josef was sitting in one of my armchairs, sipping something alcoholic, and a blonde girl in a skimpy dress was sitting at the armrest and glued up on him. Two others were dancing seductively to some modern beat in my living room. Their chatter stopped immediately when they saw me in the door.

It wasn't the girls' fault, they were clearly confused, but I needed them gone, as I wanted Josef alone for the vent I surely was going to have now.

I announced „Sorry, party's over", and grabbed the remote to shut off the music. If vampires could have headaches this would be enough to induce one. The girls voiced their regret. Josef with his debonair charme stood up and whispered to me: „But they just got here." As if that was a reason to let them stay. I set him straight: „What did I tell you." He told me he ordered in. As if the girls were some kind of takeout. He didn't even think of them as human beings, who could put his life in jeopardy by their chattering. Was he that naive after 400 years of existence? I didn't understand any of this.

I told him in no uncertain terms that they had to go. His face showed his annoyance at my words, but I didn't care right now. I turned away.

Reluctantly he faced his girls and joked: „I'm sorry, ladies, daddy's a little grumpy." He walked past me, giving me some look, and bid them farewell at the door. He made them kiss him on the cheek one after the other, disgusting. Finally he closed the door and turned around to face me.

I was confused, angry and hurt. Why did he risk everything for a small time of entertainment? Couldn't he just watch TV or something? He didn't risk just his own life, but mine as well. He breached my trust that I gave him when I allowed him to stay at my loft. He behaved as if the building belonged to him.

He smiled his guarded smile that didn't really reach the eyes as I tore into him. But when I yelled at him if he wanted the attacker to wreck my place like he burned Tim and Dan, his face fell. He didn't even think about that, huh? Well, he would see the light now. He was such an arrogant, insensitive prick sometimes, and especially today. Would he really risk to get me killed? I thought I was his friend.

He looked away briefly, then stammered something about getting lonely. Well, if this was the way he treated his friends I could see why.

But maybe I shouldn't have said it. He was clearly hurt, but tried to get his uncaring mask back on. Maybe there was something else that bothered him, maybe he did have some plan with all of this. Maybe he scheduled all of this himself, to prepare a relocation. Was he intending to leave L.A., his Josef Kostan persona, his business, me? Did he try to piss me off so I wouldn't miss him?

My head was spinning. We both didn't know what to do now. Silence.

I tried to change the subject and told him about the assassin's name. He told me he didn't know him.

He walked a few steps away, turned his back to me. And then he told me he had to go to his office to get some cash. I couldn't believe my ears. After all that! He wasn't joking. I had just ripped his throat out verbally for bringing freshies to my place, and he wanted to go out. He still didn't understand the scope of this, or had some hidden agenda. Maybe this was his exit to leave my life for good.

I didn't know what to say anymore. And I didn't care what he did now anymore. He knew my position on this, and I couldn't make him do anything, or prevent him from doing anything. Let him kill himself, let him run away, I didn't care. I went to bed, I needed time alone to think. If he got himself in trouble while I was sleeping I would hunt and kill him myself.


	8. Preparing Josef's POV

As soon as I heard the freezer lid close I silently went upstairs and took a very long cold shower. I really needed some cold to rest, but I couldn't. So I sat down in the dark at the top of the stairs and began to think about what happened and how to get out of this.

Just in case Mick couldn't find the attacker, I would need to relocate. I always had a couple of new identities ready, but now that it was time hated to go away. I liked the people I knew here, my staff, Mick, the freshies. When had I started to get so attached to people? Mick's attitude must have been catching. But it had to be. I had to leave, I already put Mick in danger, and everybody else I knew here.

First I would need cash, I couldn't use my credit cards for the time being. Then buy a new cellphone, contact Karl to get my papers, as Ryder was out of town. Meet Karl at the airport and get the hell out of here. Philadelphia would be nice, I never lived there before. It was nearer to Sara, too. Let Mick find the killer or not, the killer would not find me.

My mind made up, I raided Mick's closet and took one of his long coats and a cap. I had an echo of bad conscience when I took Mick's car keys, but it served two purposes. One, I had no money yet for a cab. Two, he wouldn't be able to follow me that fast. I would leave the car at Kostan Industries for him. And he was one of my beneficiaries, I would compensate him nicely for his troubles. Of course, most of my money would be transferred to my new location and name. Karl would take care of everything.

I parked the car in a dark corner, then pinched in the emergency code as my keys were probably lying in a molten heap at the place where my desk had been. A part of me was curious how the office looked now. But on my way there good old Tom ambushed me. I told him to keep it a secret, and hoped I could trust him. He had called and cooperated with Mick and gave him the security footage, but still, the assassin should have never gotten that far during Tom's watch.

But I would be away in an hour or so, it didn't matter any more. I asked him to get back to the surveillance room and entered the office alone. It was quite a shock to see everything burned down. Somewhere within the grey ashes on the floor the remnants of Tim and Dan were mingling with burned furniture and other grime. The fact that all my collected artwork, all my personal belongings were gone consolidated my decision to go.

I don't know how long I stood there, watched the mayhem around me and reminisced about the last 50 odd years I had spent on and off in L.A, the latest 20 in this office. Finally I headed for my fireproof safe and opened it. I sorted through the cash, but then I took out the one thing that was more important to me than money. Her locket. I couldn't wear it all the time, didn't want the questions, didn't want the constant reminder of my failure, but I needed to take it with me wherever I went.

Abruptly I was ripped out of my engrossed state when someone turned up behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Mick hitting the man hard. I must be really beside myself if I didn't even sense neither the human nor the vampire come in. But Mick had it under control.

I wanted to talk to him, but the assassin got back up. He was really strong for a human. Mick took care of him again, and I could see he tried not to kill the man instantly. That may be why Mick was stabbed, which made him really angry, but then he got the upper hand and manhandled the human to get information out of him. I watched, part amused, part anxious, part defeated.

Then there was the name. Whitley.

Could it really be Whitley? All those years I had someone watch him. He was over 90 years old now and quite sick, and he never found out where his daughter went, but I always had the impression that he knew, somehow. After Sara I relocated, but I visited New York in regular intervals and once, in the 70s, I saw Whitley at the airport. His head snapped towards me and he stared at me. I acted as if I didn't know him, avoided his gaze in that typical newyorkish way and went on loading my luggage on the cart. He made two hesitating steps towards me, then pivoted and ran off.

But he couldn't know, could he? He might have taken me for my own son, or a doppelganger, but never could he have thought it was me. Why hadn't he just asked a polite „Do I know you?" Were his memories of Sara too painful to face? I know that I took her away from him, I would have even if everything had gone right, and I never pitied him before. At that day, I did.

When it was Whitley who tried to get me killed, was Sara still safe? Did he find out where she was? I felt like my world just had crumbled to dust. Mick asked me about Whitley, but of course I couldn't tell him. I couldn't look him in the eyes. This was the last time I saw him, and I really wanted to apologize for everything, just say something meaningful, but I couldn't. When he was busy with the guy I vanished as fast as I could. I couldn't even say goodbye. This was not so much fun anymore.


	9. Hunting Mick's POV

When I entered my freezer room hidden behind the panel on the upper floor I immediately shed my clothes and laid down in the comforting coolness of my freezer. Despite the hard surface it was calming and intimate to lay here where noone else ever disturbed me. Except for when Josef barged in because of Lola.

I tried to stay angry at him, but it didn't work. Actually, I could understand that Josef was uncomfortable. He was totally out of his normal lifestyle, with no explanation yet to the who and why. He had no way to resolve this except for trusting me, which he did, but it didn't mean he had to like it. And he didn't have a freezer here. He would be too hot by now, and he was used to the luxury of a whole freezer room at home. But he couldn't go home, and I had no spare freezer. Besides, he had survived about 250 years without electricity, and 350 years without a freezer, so he should be fine.

I could hear him through the walls, taking a long shower. That might help. I still didn't understand what made him tick, why he wanted to go to his office, why he neglected the proof that his life still was in danger. He wasn't open with me, and that bugged me. I wasn't really angry any more, I was hurt that he didn't trust me with the truth. And I started to lose trust in him, and that worried me.

But with the soothing rhythm of the water gurgling into the drain, and the cold oozing into my skin and refrigerating my decaying flesh, I actually fell asleep.

I couldn't have been sleeping for more than an hour. Waking up, I immediately realized that something was wrong. I opened the lid and climbed out, pulled the robe on that Josef left in the bathroom and went downstairs. He wasn't there, I couldn't smell him. He must have gone at least an hour ago. Damn. Of course, I knew where he would have gone.

In a hurry to go after him I threw some clothes on and searched for my keys, but they weren't there. So he had taken the car. I would kill him. It wasn't that far to his office, and I wouldn't wait until a cab arrived. I would have to run. Crap.

It took me about 20 minutes to get to Josef's office building. No trace of my car at the entrance, at least he was careful about making his presence known. I keyed myself in, glad he gave me the security code weeks ago. I went up to the burnt floor, but took the last two stories by stairs as the private escalator doors were contorted and didn't open.

When I entered the room I had been perusing for clues just hours before, I could instantly smell the human who was silently walking up from the emergency exit. He stopped suddenly, with his weapon cocked. I just now realized that Josef was kneeling in the midst of the rubble, and totally oblivious. I easily approached the attacker from the side and knocked him out.

„You already died once this week, isn't that enough?" I asked. Josef actually jumped a bit. Where was his vamp sense? Okay, the smells from the fire were still very bad, but to not be aware of two persons, well, a human and a vampire, in your space, was really not Mr. Paranoid's style. What was wrong?

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see the killer get up. He tried to hit me, and we had a little fight. I tried very hard to control my movements. I was pumped with adrenaline from the run and my anger towards Josef, but I needed answers out of this guy. Breaking his neck wouldn't get me anywhere. So, he got a few punches in, occupational hazard. Just made me angrier. I threw him to the ground and asked him, who he was working for. He didn't answer, of course, just pulled a knife out of his boots and attacked again. Persistent, I had to give him that. He managed to stab my leg. If I wasn't a vampire, the damage to the femoral artery would have brought me down, but the wound started to close immediately when I pulled the knife out, and the blood just went elsewhere until the damage to the vessel healed. No silver, then. He probably didn't know about vampires, or he wouldn't try a gun and a steel knife.

I had enough and decided to take Martan the hard way. I threw him down, then grabbed him and hung him out of the shattered window. I repeated my question, trying to collect myself enough to not vamp out. I didn't know how much he had already seen when he wounded me. Though I was careful to turn away when I felt the change in my eyes, I couldn't help but roar in pain. I hoped it was dark enough that maybe he didn't see much.

He told me he was hired by a John Whitley from New York. What would a New Yorker want from Josef? I gave him a carefully measured knock-out on a steel beam and went over to Josef. Maybe now I would get answers.

Josef stood rooted on the spot, looking at the attacker with a stony expression. He must have heard his answer, and he was clearly shocked. I asked him if he knew that name. He said: „I don't think so." But he didn't look me in the eyes.

„Don't lie to me, Josef." I begged. Josef looked away.

The killer came to, and I turned to keep an eye on him, as he clearly was a dangerous person. I looked at Josef with a frustrated huff. He still wouldn't talk. Okay. I asked him to lend me a hand, but when I turned back at him, he was gone.

Darn it! His vampire skills were still firmly in place. Why would he run? What did he intend to do? Why didn't he let me in?

I knocked the guy out again, took him into a fireman's grip and carried him one story down to Tom's office to call the police and borrow some handcuffs. I couldn't knock the guy out every time he moved, but he was skilled and therefor dangerous.

Suddenly I staggered. I could smell the blood from outside the door. The sight was gruesome. Tom was slumped in his desk chair, Martan had shot him into the head.

Well, I couldn't tell the police that Josef was still alive so I had to fabricate some story why the killer came back anyway. This suited me just fine, but I was sorry for Tom. Wait. Why DID Martan come back? Seems like Tom was feeding him the information on Josef's return. So that was how the killer got that far in the first place. Should have known.

I called the police and told Ltn. Kim that I went there for further investigation and found the attacker had shot the security guard. He bought it. I advised them to be careful, but he snipped at that. Well, diplomacy was not my strong point.

Beth came over, I had called her and asked her to find information about John Whitley. She was really good, she already had everything. This Whitley person was 93, old enemy obviously. Josef had been in New York in the fifties, we met after he relocated to L.A. and introduced himself to me on one of Coraline's parties. Those were the days.

I went to my car that I had found just outside the other entrance around the corner. The keys were in the ignition.

I already decided to follow Josef to New York, which is clearly where he was headed. He wasn't himself today. I had phoned the airport to ask if Josef had bought a ticket, but they couldn't find anything. So he probably did use another name.

Beth wanted to come with me. Her persistence was endearing. We decided to split, each one packing some things, and meet in an hour at her appartment to drive to the airport.

When I found Josef he would have definitely some explaining to do. Maybe I should take some handcuffs with me, just in case.


	10. Travelling Josef's POV

I dropped Mick's car keys into his Benz and then ran three blocks until I was well out of sight. Then I called a cab to drive me to the airport, which unfortunately brought us back to drive alongside Kostan Industries.

This would be the last time I saw the building that I had acquired two decades ago to house my staff and my office. I had put some thought into what went where while enhancing security, demanding a private elevator, making someone trustworthy build a hidden staircase to the upper floor where I had a nice little apartment that I used if I didn't want to drive home.

Home surely wasn't mine anymore now. The house I had bought from a production company that used it only as a backdrop and set for B-movies. It was stylish, it was expensive, it was spacious, but now it would be sold. Karl had a periodically updated list of what would go to storage, what would be sold, what I wanted to give to people and what he had to send to whatever my new location would be. The Renoir of course, a few antiques, private pictures of Sara and a few knickknacks that reminded me of something important. When I thought about it, there weren't many movable goods that I considered essentials. Almost everything could be replaced, granted you had the money. I would inherit a lot of money from my deceased self, and the rest would go to divers charities that I had found worthy.

On the way to the airport I asked the driver for a short stop at a phone shop to acquire a nondescript prepaid cellphone. I then called Karl and asked him to bring my fake IDs to LAX and to prepare everything for relocation. He sounded even more gruff than usual. Maybe he wasn't looking forward to the amount of extra work this would cost him. I didn't care. This was what I employed him for. When he was done here, I could probably ask him if he wanted to relocate to my place, get a new contract. I would surely miss my dependable taciturn bodyguard. He was more bite than bark, if you get my drift.

When I got to the airport I walked to the counter and asked for the next flight to Philadelphia. It was two hours. But there was a flight to New York going in 40 minutes. I spontaneously decided to visit Sara first. I only got a business class ticket but I didn't care. I couldn't take my private jet, so I could as well enjoy the experience of sardines in a can.

I met Karl on the parking lot. Like drug dealers we shielded ourselves from the sun while he gave me a thermos of blood and a small suitcase. I gratefully took the blood and immediately sipped some (it was Mira's farewell present), but refused the suitcase. I didn't need to take anything with me. There would be a house fully stocked waiting for Dr. Lewis Clark, the brilliant historician who would take the place of Professor White that had been vacant for years now. Noone needed to know that it was me who paid for it to be vacant, just in case I needed a refuge.

I needed to go. Karl took the thermos and the suitcase, but then he dropped both and took my comparatively frail frame into a bear hug. I was surprised, patted him on the shoulder as far as I could reach, then turned around and jogged into the terminal to catch my flight.

When I had settled down in my seat I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. Thus I would avoid to be pestered with meals and newspapers by the flight attendants. Next to me sat a sweaty and overweight man in a business suit. He was listening to something on his ipod, and sadly I would have to listen in. But I soon discovered that his choice of music wasn't so bad, it actually distracted me from the dozens of heartbeats around.

I thought about Philly. I had never lived there for an extended time, but I had of course visited the city several times. It was nice, easygoing, not as hectic as Manhattan. The climate was gentle, the history interesting, nice buildings, nice parks, nice museums. I liked their Philharmonic Orchestra. I had been part of founding the Philadelphia Eagles, had lost some money on them in the first decade or so, but now they were doing okay. When I had settled down I would start lecturing at the Wharton School of Business. I could see myself enjoying this. After all, this is what I had prepared for myself.

„Mr. Clark?" a flight attendant ripped me out of my thoughts. „Would you like some breakfast?"

I declined, telling her I already ate.

Now that I was „awake", my neighbor tried to make conversation, but I wasn't in the mood and grunted something unintellegible to make him shut up. I went back to feigned sleep.

But of course I don't. Besides being way too warm, I cannot block the annoying smells and sounds of the surrounding passengers out, and there is too much on my mind to sleep.

Unbidden images float across my inner eyes. The skyline of LA as I could see it from my office. Mick and myself at a party in the 80s, when he still liked debauchery and a drink fresh from a vein. The view from my office to the outdoor pool, some of my beautiful freshies lounging around in the setting sun. Night golf with Mick. Poker games. Moonbathing at a private beach with one of my protegées. I think it was Lana, but they all blur into each other by now. Undersigning the contract for the new sports arena at Hearst College – damn, it's only a few weeks now, they will hold the opening reception without you now. Shame.

Then my thoughts go back to New York. Memories of Sara flood my brain, and I stop fidgeting and almost feel at ease again.

At the airport I phone a company for a limo. The cab drivers in New York are ruthless, I would never climb into one of those yellow accidents waiting to happen if I can prevent it. I make the mistake of using my old name and credit number. It's hard to break a habit, I had that identity for almost fifty years now, only changing into Josef Kostan II. and III. every 20 years or so. Damn, you would think I never relocated before. Maybe it's good that this forced me, I would have gotten stuck in L.A. forever. Not good, Josef, I mean Lewis. Get used to it, man!

I get out at Waverly Place, shielding my face against the sun. Polly opens immediately, I called her. She is almost like Karl, doesn't talk much, very dependable though. I walk through the corridor to Sara's room. I ask Polly to leave us alone. I am hungry, but that can wait. I close the door, I take off my shoes and sink down on the bed next to Sara. I stroke my fingers along her arm softly, kissing her forehead. When I lay down I fall asleep immediately.


	11. Following Mick's POV

While I drove home to my apartment in the cool morning I could still smell Josef's scent in the leather of the seat. I missed him. Not because I hadn't seen him in a while, but because he seemed so different today. I would have missed him even more if he was really dead, but since he behaved not like Josef it wasn't that far off.

Hadn't he always told me to be careful and avoid exposure? Bickered about me not having any backup plan for relocation in case it was necessary? Told me to change my name once in a while, like he had „inherited" his money and house from his „uncle" Josef Kostan?

Was all of this his way of saying goodbye? Did he plan on faking an explosion in his office and something went wrong? Did he maybe hire Martan himself? But that made no sense, he could have easily taken him out if he wanted to. And why bring the name Whitley up?

Or was this Whitley really the man behind the attack, some old enemy finally finding Josef? But how did he find him at all, and how did he know that Josef was a vampire? Martan didn't know, obviously, but why then use this much firepower for the first attack?

I was confused. When I reached home I went to my office and called Josef's house. Maybe one of his staff would tell me something, though I doubted it, if Josef himself didn't open up to me.

„Josef Kostan's, Karl speaking."

„Karl, it's Mick. Can I speak to Josef, please?"

„He is not here, sir."

„Do you know where he is?"

„No, sir, I just got home. I wouldn't be at liberty to tell you."

„So he left instructions not to tell me? Does he plan to relocate?"

„I cannot say, sir."

„Loyal as always. Thanks, Karl."

I made another phonecall to book a flight for two to New York. They told me the next flight was in 20 minutes, but I wouldn't be able to catch that. Every other flight that day was overbooked, but I got two seats in the 7 pm flight. Oh, well, I needed to sleep anyway, and probably could do some research on Whitley. Only problem was that maybe Josef got a flight in the morning and would have killed Whitley before we got there.

Frustrated, I jogged upstairs to throw a few items into a bag, then I called Beth. I told her we wouldn't get away until the evening. She was okay with that, she wanted to write the story about the murder of Tom and the open questions surrounding the Kostan case, as she called it. That way it would be easier to convince her editor to let her fly to New York for further research. I promised to pick her up at 5.30 pm.

I slept all day, knowing that I wouldn't have a freezer in New York. When I got up I made sure to feed more than I usually would. I couldn't take anything with me into the plane, they didn't even allow a thermos anymore. Travelling wasn't easy for vamps. I sat down in my office and tried to find old records on Whitley, anything that might link him to Josef. But as I didn't know Josef's alias, nor his adress or occupation back then, I couldn't find anything. What I found was that the sports arena that Josef was sponsoring here in L.A. was dedicated to a Sarah Whitley. Was there a connection? Why did Josef dedicate a building to Whitley's daughter that vanished in 1955? And wasn't it more than dumb to do so when Whitley was still alive? I still couldn't make head or tails of it.

In the evening I drove to Beth's house in a cab because I didn't want to leave the Benz at the airport. I told the driver to wait. When I knocked she was obviously arguing with Josh. I felt like the intruder I was and started an offer to wait outside, but Josh just rushed away. She didn't want to talk about it, so I carried her suitcase downstairs and we took the cab to the airport.

She was silent, thinking hard about something. Her face showed her confusion. I didn't want to intrude, but I felt that she and Josh were drifting apart, and that maybe my person was one of the points why. I enjoyed working with her tremendously, and at some point or another I already had entertained the idea of what it would be like to be with her. But she had a boyfriend and they both didn't deserve to be broken up. Josh was a decent guy and just what she needed. I was just a ghost, I couldn't give her anything.

We boarded the plane and she immediately closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Not that she could deceive a vampire who could hear her heartbeat, but I wasn't going to call her out on that. After a while she fell asleep for real. She had to be emotionally exhausted after her argument with Josh. I didn't know what it had been about, but I could guess she had told him we would go to New York, and he wasn't fine with that. He was bound to get jealous with all the time she spent on the hunt with me. What was her take on the situation? Was she in love with Josh? I better didn't dwell on thoughts in that direction, as they would just be clouded by speculation, wishful thinking and my actual feelings of loneliness.

I stood up once and perused the other passengers to see if Josef had made it into this plane. I couldn't find him in business class, and I couldn't get into first class without arousing suspicion. I smelt one other vampire, we exchanged a nod but there was no need to get acquainted. When I came back to my seat Beth was awake.

„Where did you go?"

„Just looking if Josef took the same plane."

„Would be weird to find him here, then. Did you?"

„No. He must have taken one before."

We fell silent again. I wasn't sure where to go from here. I couldn't really tell her about my suspicion that Josef was relocating, and especially not about my hurt feelings.

„What are we gonna do once we get there?" she asked.

„We will have to start with visiting John Whitley. But it will be late when we get there. You should probably get some sleep. I will try to get more information, I slept all day."

She nodded. „I found out that Josef is involved in the new Hearst College arena. It is called Sarah Whitley Memorial Arena. Coincidence?"

„I think not. I found that, too. Maybe that's why the killer found him in the first place. Dumb move."

„What is his connection to Sarah?"

„I don't know. We will see when we visit Mr. Whitley."

In New York we took a cab and I booked two rooms in a small hotel in Manhattan. She went to freshen up a bit, I just dropped my bag in my room. I wanted to take her out to a restaurant, but she was tired and jetlagged and felt the need to have a walk. So she bought something from a street vendor and we did a little sightseeing, just walking down 5th Avenue. She told me that she had been to New York once for a weekend during college, and always wanted to go again. I told her that I was in New York to embark for Europe during the war. She wanted to hear some old stories, and I provided.

Somehow New York made me feel like I was on a holiday. A holiday with Beth, I could live with that. But at some point she was swaying on her feet, and we had work to do in the morning, so I called a cab and we made it back to the hotel.

In the elevator I could smell her more than usual. Maybe I was tired, too, emotional and needy. I could sense her sweat, her perfume, her hair, and her exhaustion. At our floor she said her goodnight, and we parted ways.

In my room I immediately felt the cloud of depression hover over me. A foreign room, a dark and strange city, Josef's location still unknown, riddles still unsolved. I could almost pretend to feel Beth's heartbeat through the walls. Her room wasn't even adjoining mine, it was pure fantasy. I pictured her, standing in the small bathroom and combing her blonde hair out, lying in bed in some silky nightgown, sleeping. I hadn't seen her in her sleep since she slept on my couch after she took that drug. The memory of how she came on to me, how I held her under the cold water, how she passed out, how I undressed her and put one of my shirts on her, how I watched her deep slumber until I could sense her waking up and started coffee, it all came back to me now.

I had to admit it to myself. I was in love. It could never be, of course, but there was no way I could convince myself that this wasn't what I felt.

Slowly I stepped out of my clothes and took a long cold shower. Today it wasn't only the fact that I missed my freezer, but I needed to get a grip. I wanted to be able to look her in the eyes tomorrow, so self gratification was not an option. Telling myself to get over it, I laid on the bed under a thin sheet and tried to calm down. The bed was too warm, too soft. So I got up again, dressed and grabbed my keys. I called the local cleaner at the usual number and asked for a contact. Then I left a note at Beth's door in case she woke up, and left the hotel. I wanted to spend the night on New York's busy streets and get some blood. I just hoped the coming day wouldn't be half as crappy as this one.


	12. Finding Mick's POV

I walk the streets, buy some blood from the dealer I contacted via the local Cleaner, and try to shed the feeling of loneliness that seeps into my skin through the coat and shirt at every couple I see dining in the restaurants, every late worker heading for home, and every cab driver chatting with their customers.

There is a jazz band playing in one of the clubs, and I remember that there was a special place called Village Vanguard. I head there and find out that there is a jazz night coming up tomorrow, but today the place is quiet. Sadly, tomorrow we would probably be heading home.

Which brings my thoughts to the next day.

I don't know how Josef spent his day in New York. He must have a vamp friendly place where he can sleep in a freezer. Would he try to kill Whitley for sending a killer out? Would he do it quickly? But what's the point in killing a 93 year old man?

I still wondered what connection he had to Whitley, and to his daughter Sarah. Maybe he disgraced her, maybe he killed her. Was this why he relocated shortly after Sarah vanished?

No answers to get. I walk to the address Beth digged up and watch the building from the other side of the street. It is an old regal house, several stories high, built with grey freestone. The place has a janitor in some sort of uniform, complete with a fur cap. The first floor contains some law firm and an insurance company. I peruse the doorbell panel and find an entry for „Whitley and Smithson Inc.", a real estate business. The penthouse is private. That must be where Whitley lives.

I decide to stay here in case Josef tries something. I might be too late, I might be too early, but I have nothing else to do. When being on a stake-out my mind tends to turn off, like meditation. It's a way to calm the storm of emotions, questions and thoughts that made me miserable all day. I can let go of the anger, the frustration and the fear that I am losing Josef, and Beth. Yes, there is fear, burning in my stomach, but I can let it be for now. It will sort itself out or it won't, but there is no point in making myself sick with worry. As my dad used to say: „Every day has its own worries."

When the morning sun comes up, I visit my contact again for some breakfast and hurry to get back to the hotel. I find my note on Beth's door and take it away, glad that she obviously had a good night of sleep without interruptions.

I take another very cold shower, this time for recreational purposes. Beth timidly knocks about an hour later. She looks radiant with her hair freshly brushed and taken back by a simple clip, and in a dark grey, very feminine business suit with a flowing shawl.

I ask her to go somewhere else for breakfast. At the hotel I would have a hard time to pretend I already ate. So we find a small café and she orders croissants and coffee. She digs into her meal with abandon, and asks me if I am okay. I am taken aback by her question, I never exspected her to even think about this. I should give her more credit, I guess. So I tell her that I am fine and that I found a contact to get some A positive. She giggles. „That sounds like you are on some drug. I respond that this is exactly the way it feels for me. Her face falls. „Sorry." she says. „It's okay." I tell her.

We make our way to Whitley's house in a cab. I cannot exspect her to walk all the way like I did tonight. There's a new janitor there, same uniform though. We ask him to see Mr. Whitley in a private matter. He calls someone, and then tells us that Mr. Whitley will not take visitors today. While Beth uses her charms to get further information out of him, I take a look around the corner. I think I saw a side door, but it is closed. Then I remember the fire escape.

Beth isn't really up for it, but when I do the „jumpy thing" as she called it and get the ladder for her, she just smiles. She smiles some more when I ask her to go before me. A woman always knows when a man ogles her, and I take the opportunity gladly. I smile to myself and have a hard time wiping the grin off before she looks at me again.

I open the window easily, and then we go upstairs with the elevator like we belong here. At the penthouse floor we walk into a maid in a frilly black uniform (What is it with rich people and making others wear uniforms?) who is very surprised and immediately calls a man for help. He wears white like some kind of nurse and when we ask to see Mr. Whitley he stomps through a flight of rooms to a dark study. He angrily tells someone that we intruded and if he should call the police.

I can smell decay, but not the vampire kind. This man is old, he is dying. There is blood on his collar, he has a breathing mask next to him and an IV line in his left hand, and he is sitting uncomfortably in an overstuffed chair, as if he is ready to keel over any minute, dressed in a thick robe but still too cold for a human.

Beth immediately takes charge and tells him he might be in danger. Whitley allows us to stay. I immediately confront him. „You hired a hit man to kill Josef Kostan."

A hesitating „Nooo."

Beth interrupts. „Sir, we have evidence." I admire her spunk.

Whitley speaks up. He tells us that Josef was Charles Fitzgerald, and that he murdered Whitleys daughter. So he knows what Josef is. I ask him to tell everything he knows so we can find Josef. Whitley is breathing heavily now, clearly distressed. He tells me to get something out of a drawer. A diary, the diary of Sarah. He takes it reverently and explains that he discovered it two years ago after his wife died. He tells us that Josef killed Sarah. Beth looks at me briefly. Whitley's distress and grief are clearly getting to her.

The old man gives Beth the diary to read. I ask him if he hired a killer for Josef. His face contorts into a mask of 50 year old hatred. I am appaled. He calls Josef a monster, and if Josef really killed this innocent woman he might be right. Hell, he is right nonwithstanding, we are monsters. But still, Josef is my friend, and he might have an explanation.

Suddenly Whitley dissolves into an excruciating coughing fit. The male nurse comes in and sends us out. We leave quickly.

The sun is up, it's a hot day. We sit down in the shadow of a small park, and I get a coffee for her.

Beth has managed to sneak the diary out with us. She starts to scan it and reads parts of it to me. The words unfold the picture of a really trusting, naive but self-composed young woman. She was in love with Josef and somehow found out what he was. She talks about her everyday dealings, about shopping, dances, her art class, her girlfriends, her parents. Teens were growing up later in that day and age, but she had a level head on her shoulders. Her observations were intelligent, grounded and without an ounce of meanness or condescendence. She was the daughter of doting, very rich parents, but she wasn't spoiled. She had plans for her future, involving charity, studying, travelling and then, of course, Charles. Charles Fitzgerald, who became the center and focal point of all her ramblings from the day she met him. And then, within half a year, there is the last entry.

When Beth reads the words to me, that Sarah knows what he is and still wants to stay with him forever, I have the feeling that the words are Beth's. Josef actually used the words dangerous and impossible, but Sarah wouldn't have any of that. She was ready to be with him forever. I nod to myself, it suddenly makes sense.

Josef was in love. He turned her and something went wrong, and he killed her. It's exactly what I am afraid of in case I try to make it work with Beth. She will get hurt, or killed, be it by me or by association. I have to give up the thoughts I had about being with her.

I feel close to crying. I can't look Beth in the eyes, and am for once glad for the sunglasses. My voice is rough as she questions me about Josef never telling me about this, then asks about relocation. I cannot tell her I stayed because of her, can I? So I tell her I liked the weather. Yeah, smart move, St. John. The weather of L.A. is actually one of the points that make life difficult for us. Would be better off in Seattle or some place around there. She smiles at that answer, and that makes me smile. She is looking at me quizzical and I prepare myself for some hard-to-answer follow up questions, but lucky for me her phone rings.

It's Sam. She finally hacked into the right limo service and found Josef's location. He was careless again, used his credit card. We try to find a cab to Waverly Place. I will finally get some answers, and maybe I will still want to kill him. But I'm not so sure anymore.


	13. Sleeping Josef's POV

When I woke up it was just sunset outside. The drapes were closed all the time, of course, for Sarah, but I still always knew when dawn came and when the sun set.

I slipped back into my shoes and after a smiling glance at Sarah's eternally young face I left the room to look for Polly. She was in the kitchen, preparing herself a sandwich.

„Good evening, sir. How can I help you?"

„I need to have dinner, and then I will retire to my room for an hour or so. When will Gracie come?"

„She is due in an hour, sir. I'll check on Sarah. There is fresh blood in the fridge, sir."

I nodded a thanks and took the bottle out. Sarah was on bottled blood, of course, but they kept some extra for me in case I dropped by. I used to be here more often, but lately it had been less than once a month. I still loved Sarah, but maybe I got bored with the situation after 50 years. I guess part of me wanted to move on, and part of me felt guilty for wanting that. Well, I wasn't made for carrying regrets, so I would need to make a decision sooner or later, about what I wanted and what was best for Sarah.

My mind was rested, but my body needed an hour in subzero conditions, so I emptied the bottle and left for the room in the back that contained my freezer. Sarah was stuck half way between human and vampire, which meant that she was breathing and slept in a bed, but she had no regular heartbeat, couldn't tolerate much sunlight and was living on blood. I had searched high and low for an explanation, or even a precedent, but there was none. Sarah was unique.

I stepped out of my clothes and laid down in the comfortable cold of the freezer. It felt good to be out of Mick's not really fitting trousers and shirt, I had worn them for over a day now. I chilled for an hour, then dressed in my own clothes that I kept here and went to the kitchen for another snack. I wouldn't bring freshies here, ever, but the cold stored grub was getting on my nerves. Maybe I could go out tonight.

Gracie was sitting at Sarah's bed when I entered, reading a book. I asked her to leave for a while, and silently as always she obeyed.

I sat on the bed next to Sarah and took her hand in mine. She wasn't as cold as me, but cooler than humans normally are. Suddenly I sobbed. I didn't mean to, but life had been stressful the last days and I needed some sort of outlet. Sarah would be the only one to see me like that. I had lost my home in L.A., all my contacts and all the willing freshies that I cherished and protected. I had lost my best friend Mick. It hurt a lot. I had lied to him, by omission, not only about Sarah but about lots of things. Now he would never trust me again. I just hoped he wouldn't do something stupid now that I wasn't there to keep him in line.

I whispered to Sarah about our time together in New York, about how I fell in love with her, how I turned her and how devastated I was when it went wrong. About my failure to find help. About setting up this house that I had intended to be our home for the time until she adjusted to the vampire world. About how I fled to L.A. because I couldn't stand the loneliness of caring for her, and couldn't bring myself to go back to my usual hedonistic lifestyle when Sarah was lying there unmoving and silent. I told her that I was sorry about how I compartimentalized my life and kept only a small part for her. We had only memories now.

It would be different if she were awake. My life would revolve around hers then. We would do things together, talk about stuff. She would have stories to contribute, her own thoughts and opinions. It would be vastly different from this, where she was only the mirror I threw my unguarded image against.

I began to feel restless. I had slept more than I was used to, and my quota on insightful pondering in Sarah's presence was met for today. So I kissed Sarah's forehead and took off for a night on the town. I walked to the shore and looked at Manhattan over the river. Turning briskly I called a limo service to bring me there. This time I remembered to use my new name.

People were milling through the streets in the same hurry they always seemed to be in. Humans had so little time, and wasted so much of it for petty things like food and work and growing children and being sick and getting old. On the other hand, life could get really boring and empty if you didn't find something or someone to live for every decade or so. For the last 50 years I had Sarah, or better she had me. I felt stifled all of a sudden. There was no growth in our relationship, no development, no movement at all. We didn't argue and make up, we didn't change locations together and get used to new places and acquaintances. We didn't buy things and get rid of things together. We never talked about anything with each other. I lived my life as if she didn't exist, just visiting like one visits a gravesite. Hell, it was almost as if I was a widower. She was dead to the world, just not to me. I was the only connection she had left. She sure had wanted more for her life, deserved more than this.

What if she was sleeping and didn't hear anything I told her over the years?

What if she was conscious and could hear everything I told her, just couldn't express herself?

What if she was in pain and couldn't tell?

What if she didn't want this, wanted out?

What if she was afraid that I would leave her?

What if she wanted me to leave her alone?

I just couldn't know. This limbo would last forever. I didn't even have the secure knowledge that she would grow old and die one day. And I wasn't sure anymore if this was a blessing or a curse.

I left the limo near Broadway and told them to fetch me around 5 am. I walked aimlessly, watching the announcements of shows and movies, wondering which one would be worth my time, remembering entertainment I had watched here in the past 80 years. Josefine Baker, now that was a sight I wouldn't forget. And her blood had been delicious.

Suddenly I realized that I had taken the course to Whitley's house. I decided to pay him a visit, just watch him from across the street. I didn't want to kill him. By what I heard, leaving him alive to slowly suffocate to death would be a much better revenge than killing him swiftly. He didn't have the same courtiousness, but he had a just cause. From what he knew I killed Sarah. I just wondered how he found me. Suddenly I had one of this clear „Duh!" moments. The Hearst College, of course. Gut gemacht, Heinrich Joseph Karl von Falckenstein, as my father would say in that condescending and sarcastic tone he used when I fcked up. He never used my full name except for that times. Well, now I had Mick for ripping me a new one, except that he didn't know my real name. I had forgotten it myself in the swirl of aliases I had used over the centuries.

When I reached Whitley's house I saw a dark figure looming in a dark corner across the street. I smiled. Mick was here, alone. I hesitated between greeting him by patting him on the back, and staying away. I decided for the latter. Of course, he was searching for me. Maybe he would ask Whitley about what he knew. Mick could do that, I couldn't. So I wouldn't interfere and hoped that he would find me on his own. He was good at his job. Maybe the credit card trail would be good for something.

I watched him from afar, carefully hidden and downwind. He was a good friend. The best I have had since 1839 or so. Maybe I shouldn't relocate. I could try to make it work, find some explanation for the police, stay away from the public eye as much as possible and fake another death 10 years or so from now. Philadelphia could wait.

What was it with Mick and Beth anyway? They had this carefully guarded relationship, both neither denying the attraction nor acting on it. Beth still kept her bland ADA boyfriend on a long leash, not letting go, not moving forward. Mick kept her on arm's length and hoped the problem he had with trust and commitment would just go away on its own. Somehow, their relationship was in limbo just like mine. I just wished him better. Beth would be good for him, but would he be good for a relationship? Coraline had hurt him deeply, and he was way too uptight to just go for it. If he let go, he would be a force to be reckoned with. Would Beth be able to take it?

The rest of the night I planned to spend at a vampire club I was a member of. I decided to leave Mick to his thougths, I had had enough of that for now. A night on the town, some drinks fresh from the vein, music, pool, some light conversation with the locals, it was going to be fun.


	14. Fighting Josef's POV

I came back to Sarah in the morning, the sun was just starting to crawl up from the sea. I loved the quiet freshness of early morning and took some unnecessary but refreshing breaths before entering the house. I gave Sarah a tentative kiss, then left her to get some more freezer time. Around noon I awoke with a start. Something was up. So I dressed and went over to the biggest room of the house and watched out for Sarah. She was of course lying there, unmoving, unbreathing. Polly was there again. There were three nurses who cared for Sarah 24/7, they scheduled their time on their own and were fiercely loyal to Sarah and me. Polly had been employed for nearly 20 years now, since she was driven from nursing school because she was pregnant. I made sure she could keep her daughter and get a babysitter for work hours. She never betrayed my trust, and I would trust her with my life. Most times you have to earn a loyalty like that.

In the late afternoon the doorbell rang. Polly had just opened the blinds of the northern windows to let in some air, and went to get the door. She was instructed to deny that anybody was home. But when she opened the door I could smell Mick even from the corridor. I smiled to myself. Gotcha. Actually I was glad he found me.

When he and Beth insisted that I would be here, and asked for Charles Fitzgerald, I couldn't stand it anymore to torture them, and Polly. I walked to the door, excused Polly and smiled at Mick. Beth's smile was triumphant. I should have known that she would go with him and help him find me. I greeted her with a nod and a smile.

Mick had questions, of course. He found Whitley, he talked to him. I didn't talk to him, but guided them through the corridor to Sarah's room. There was no other way, I had to show them. I wasn't sure what it would do to Mick, to Beth, but they were here, and I was tired of evading. I needed them to understand, I had lost enough already.

When I opened the door I couldn't look them in the eye. I let Mick and Beth go first, then told them „This is Sarah Whitley."

I released Polly to her dinner break to be alone with the love of my life, my best friend and the love of his life. It was a curious situation, and I was tentatively taking small steps to get through this conversation. I needed to be open with Mick after all, but my habit of denial and hiding was hard to break. Beth stared at Sarah and started with the questions. „What is wrong with her?"

I couldn't take my eyes from Sarah when I told them how we met. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see that Beth was moved and shocked about the situation that unfolded in front of her. Mick stayed silent all the time, while I opened my heart to him. I wasn't really talking to Beth, I was talking to Mick. He watched me with a guarded expression, unmoving.

Beth still didn't understand what happened, but Mick had comprehended and told her that I tried to turn her. That was my cue to tell the rest. Telling them felt like going through it once again, the dread, the apprehension, the failure, the despair, the guilt, the rage, the loneliness afterwards. I spared them the details, but the images in my head and the emotions in my heart would swirl around until I was almost nauseous. While I talked, and moved away from them to the other side of the bed to be able to watch their faces and Sarah at the same time, Beth was giving sideward glances to Mick. He still didn't react.

Mick finally opened his mouth to tell me it wasn't my fault. Huh? Mr. Guilt-ridden himself told me that? It didn't help, and he knew that. But it helped that he obviously understood me, talked to me again. Beth tried to comfort me, telling me that I cared for her, as if that would make it better. But I understood that there was a question behind her words, the question why I didn't give up on her. I just couldn't give up hope that Sarah would wake up some day. I moved back around the bed, getting closer to Mick, trying not to cry, squeezing my nose, needing some sort of contact to pull myself together.

Then suddenly everything went crazy. A man bolted through the window, shattering it. The noise of the splintering glass and wood was resounding in the quiet atmosphere that being with Sarah always created.

I took only a quick glance at the black-clothed attacker and turned towards Sarah to shield her. I heard Mick tackle Beth to the ground. The man shot at me and two bullets hit the mark. It was silver, not very concentrated, but it took my nerval system out for a moment and I theatrically clenched and tilted to the side as far as my precarious control would go. I didn't want to fall onto Sarah, to make sure he wouldn't hurt her. I didn't fear for myself. I could have taken the man out in fair combat, but silver wasn't really fair. With Mick on my side there was no chance in hell the attacker would succeed.

I hadn't counted on him having a stake in addition to his silver bullets, and before I could overcome the silver and move again, the wood was forcefully driven into my chest. He missed the heart. Squishy thing, that, it tended to move to the side if you didn't tackle it in the center. On the other hand, the stake strummed some spinal nerves that made my body convulse in a very undignified way, especially as Martan was moving the wood around wondering why I wasn't dead. The pain was a bitch. I couldn't get up, couldn't talk, couldn't breathe. And still I was laughing internally when Mick emerged behind him and told him that it wouldn't work that way.

This time Mick made short work of him, a few punches, lifting him from the ground, a swift twitch of the neck, and Martan fell to the ground, heartbeat efficiently stopped.

Mick kneeled down next to me, unharmed, and watched me as I struggled in place. He pulled the wooden stake out in one swift movement. The first breath I could take I thanked him. This was a close call after all.

He tilted his head and said „You're welcome." in this calm, cool tone he used when something worked his way.

We didn't need to say more. He had saved my ass, again, and we were fine.

Beth slowly stood up from where she was crouched and surveyed the damage. I did the same once I regained enough strength to get up. The dead killer was lying in the debris of the shattered window. There was blood on the carpet, my blood, where I had been staked. And Sarah was lying still in her bed, as if nothing happened.

Beth's heartbeat was slowly going back to normal. But now that I concentrated, I could sense Polly's panicked state. She had taken refuge in the kitchen when she heard the gunshots. I knew she wouldn't have called the police, she was smart enough to know that was out of the question, but of course she was freaked out. I asked Beth to look after her, and she complied.

Once alone with Mick, I asked him to take the bullets out for me, and slowly divested myself from the ruined shirt. I couldn't reach back there, and the silver tips hurt like hell. He asked if we should take that procedure away from Sarah, but I told him I didn't want to leave her out of my sight yet. We couldn't know if Martan was the only killer that Whitley sent. Mick believed that Martan worked alone. While he took the first aid kit out of a cabinet I indicated to him, I asked him how he found me, and as I had guessed it was the limo service, and Beth's hacker friend. He told me about Tom's betrayal and death, and about his talk with Whitley. Whitley had searched for me for two years, and I told him it might have been dumb to donate a sports arena in the name of Sarah Whitley. He huffed at that, and murmured „Mr. Paranoia" under his breath. I could hear it, of course, and he knew that I could hear it, but we both pretended it never happened.

He apologized for bringing Martan on track, as he was probably followed and didn't notice. I apologized for running away in the first place. I guess we were even.

For the rest of the painful procedure of extricating the bullets from my spine we bantered like we used to. I drank some blood so the wounds would close. Then Mick asked the question that must have been going around in his head for some time now. „All those years, Josef, you're ranting about how it can never work between us and humans."

That made me go serious again. The events had affected not only our friendship, but also Mick's realationship to Beth. He seemed to be even more guarded now not to let her in too far, afraid to hurt her. And I only wanted to protect him from getting hurt the way I was. But I had to admit that love changed me for the better. Because of that I tried to reassure him. I was at peace with what I was, there was no regret. Even though I have been hurt by falling in love with a human, I still thought it was worth it. We both looked at Sarah.

While I buttoned up a fresh shirt I asked Mick if he was going to try to make his relationship with Beth work. He didn't answer, but his face was not so tense anymore. Beth came in and asked if I was okay. I tried to lighten the mood, not wanting her to pick up on what had transpired between Mick and I.

She asked if I was coming back to L.A. I hadn't consciously made a decision yet, but I knew that I would definitely come back. I told her I would stay in New York for a few more days. I needed to decide about a story why I was alive, and make sure that Sarah was indeed safe. I might have to pay Whitley a last visit to make sure of that. And I had to take Martan's body to the Cleaner. I didn't want her team here, I actually kept Sarah a secret to the local community. Maybe I should relocate her, take her to L.A. with me. Food for later thought.

Then Beth gave me a small, old book, bound in leather. It was Sarah's diary. I had seen her write into it when she sat on the swing in the garden, and I sat in the shadow, just watching her. I couldn't even talk. Today I showed Beth and Mick my true face, and I couldn't and wouldn't take it back. I trusted Mick with my life, and I understood now what he finds in Beth. She understood us. A kind of respect was growing towards her.

The feeling of the leather in my hands, the sight of Sarah unmoving in her sleep let me drift away from the present to that happy place where she was awake. I was lost in thoughts and memories about the day I gave her the locket, and promised her forever, soon.

Mick and Beth left silently, and I let them go without a word. For the first time in a very long run I had hope for the future. This would be worth to live, watching Mick and Beth come together, bantering with friends, building a new office, and pissing off the police. This was going to be fun.


	15. Rebonding Mick's POV

We took a cab to Waverly Place. It was a quiet neighborhood in Queens, mostly smaller brownstone or brick houses with the typical stairs in front and white windowpanes. Some of the streets had a view to the skyline of Manhattan.

I worked the doorbell and took my sunglasses off, taking a glance back at Beth, who was standing behind me, smiling. We were both curious what we would find here, if Josef was there.

A small middle aged afro american woman opened. She had a friendly face, but was guarded when she saw that we were strangers. „Can I help you?"

„Yes, we're looking for Josef Kostan."

„Noone by that name is here." she said absolutely convincing, but I had already smelled him around the corner. I steeled my face to hide a grin.

Beth kept pressuring the woman. But she insisted: „I don't know what to tell you."

It would be probably best if I played out my cards, to get her off the hook.

„How about Charles Fitzgerald? Do you know him?"

I hadn't finished the sentence when Josef came up behind her. He dismissed her. She was looking at him frustrated and kind of protective. How was he able to always inspire such loyalty?

He didn't look at me, but he smiled at Beth. He seemed surprised that I took her with me. Beth gave me a triumphant glance, but I kept my eyes on Josef. I didn't want to miss anything.

His clothes were more casual than usual, no tie, no suspenders, just dark trousers and a blue shirt, half unbottened. It seemed to me like he was on a holiday. He grinned at me and raised his eyebrows in greeting. „You can run but you can't hide."

I smiled. He had me running after him from coast to coast, searching for clues, while a phonecall would have been enough. I would watch his back anytime, but he wasn't really helpful. I enjoyed my little triumph that I found him.

„Not from me, Charles." I grinned at the last word and went past him to get out of the sun. He grinned back. For a moment it seemed to me as if he was glad I found him, as if he just had played a game, but he was way too tense for that to be true.

While he was leading us through a house that was decorated in some oldfashioned and elaborate decor, more fitting for a woman, I was scanning the rooms for the presence of others, but there was only the smell of Polly and the fade signature of one or two other humans, probably staff.

I informed Josef about our steps to find him, and that we talked with Whitley. He was evading again, he kept moving in front of us, not showing his face to me, not talking. I was tired of his games. „Will you tell me what's going on?"

He opened the double door to a room. When he turned around his face was tense, like he had finally given up on hiding but was not sure this was a good idea. He seemed strained and uneasy, almost timid. Whatever he was hiding behind this door was important to him, and he had kept it from me for a long time.

We entered the room. The drapes were closed, and in the center of the room there was a bed. On the silk pillows lay a beautiful redheaded young woman, eyes closed, unmoving. She was surrounded by monitors and IV lines.

Josef spoke, his voice soft, almost breaking. „Mick, Beth, this is Sarah. Sarah Whitley."

I was stunned. She hadn't aged since 1955, and she had no heartbeat. He had tried to turn her, and something went wrong. He had kept her here, in a comfortable home, employing trustworthy people to care for her, and he had kept her a secret for over 50 years now. My mind tried to get the facts together while Josef sent Polly out and answered Beth's questions.

He told the story of how he met Sarah and fell in love. Josef Kostan in love with a human! He looked at me with an apologetic smile. I swallowed hard. We weren't so different after all. And still, how could this go so wrong?

Beth was awfully quiet during Josef's story. What did she see when she saw Sarah? Did she see a woman in love with a vampire, or just a sad story of a love gone bad? Did she feel for Josef?

I felt for him, and was almost ashamed that I had been so angry with him that he didn't trust me with this. But still, how could he live with something like this? What other secrets were buried inside of him that he had to keep hidden? I felt like I didn't know even a particle of this old creature that I thought was my friend.

When he told us that he lived 350 years to find her, he suddenly seemed so vulnerable, forlorn, lonely and sad. And now I understood why he was so secretive, so sarcastic and paranoid. If any vampire got wind of this, Sarah wouldn't be safe. The vampire council wouldn't allow her to live on. Her existence was an abomination, a threat. Noone wanted to be reminded of what could go wrong, and noone wanted humans to see this.

Beth finally needed to know. „So, what happened to her?"

I answered for him. „He tried to turn her."

But how could he do this? He killed the woman he loved, as surely as if he had shot her or chopped her head off. How could he try to turn her, take her humanity away, her chance to have children, her chance to live in the sun and with her family? How could he be so selfish?

He explained that she was begging him, that she wouldn't let it go. And I remembered what Beth had read to me out of her diary. From her perspective it must have been something she wanted, be with him forever, share his life of the undead. Did he tell her what it would mean? How much she would give up?

She had a choice that I didn't have. When Josef and I met in 1956 he was just a bored playboy and a pompous showoff to me. But I overheard a row he had with Coraline where he chasticed her for turning me. He told her I wasn't cut out to be a vampire and that she had destroyed me. I was so wounded at that time, so dependant on Cora and angry that some stranger would talk to her about our most intimate issues. But thinking about it, this was the point in time when I realized that our relationship wasn't working, that it was built on pretense and guilt, on constraint and raw passion rather than love and free commitment. What I had overheard gave me the power to leave Coraline, one piece at a time. It took me years, but I made it. Now, I wasn't so sure anymore that Josef didn't know that I was standing at the door back then. He must have smelled me. And he talked to me rather than her.

Was it the fiasco with Sarah that made him come to L.A. permanently? He had been living there on and off for decades, as Coraline told me. Was it the fact that he was still hurting about Sarah's choice going wrong that made him furious about Coraline just taking what she wanted?

Josef was more open now to us than I had ever seen him. When he told us about the failed turning he was holding back tears, his face twitching, the hurt coming off him in waves. I tried to tell him that he did the right thing, that it wasn't his fault. Whatever I personally thought about turning, she made the decision and it wasn't his fault. Of course my words and Beth's words didn't really help. He had tried to hold onto her for decades now, and he was still hoping for a miracle.

He walked around the be towards us, and I just wanted to lay a hand onto his shoulders to show him that I cared, when the sound of crashing glass and wood made me spin around. Martan. I jumped towards Beth and pushed her to the ground, trying to cushion her fall by keeping my left arm behind her back. The killer shot Josef, then stalked towards him with a stake. I told Beth to stay down and hoped that this time she would listen to me. I had to make sure she was safe, that's why I couldn't prevent the attacker from staking Josef. For the record, Josef totally deserved it for making me come to New York in the first place. I would save his ass again, of course.

The man was confused, he obviously had the wrong information about vampires. I moved behind him in vamp speed and gladly set the record straight, vamped out already. He had no chance this time, I didn't want to play with him any more. Beth's panicked heartbeat from behind the bed made me angry, and I just threw him against the wall and snapped his neck.

Josef waslying there, a stake with a rippled bar deep inside his chest. It was a similar stake like the one Gerald Stovsky used on me. Was there some Vamps R us in L.A.? Josef braced himself for some additional pain when I pulled the wood out, and then took a deep breath. He gasped a „Thank you." It contained more than the one incident, it captured this whole mess.

I told him „You're welcome." and I meant it.

No need to kill him for what he did and made me do. He was my friend, he had trusted me with one of his many secrets, and he knew that I would protect him whenever I could. That was enough for now.


	16. Relocating Mick's POV

While I tried to get the silver tipped bullets out of Josef he came back to his snarky self, joking about me hurting him. He'd hurt me a lot more, but that was something blood wouldn't be able to help with. Knowing that he still would be my friend and that it was his love for Sarah that made him do all those things was helping, though. It was something I could relate to. I would do anything for Beth, anything. But it irked me that he had never acknowledged Beth, calling her names and making fun of me for falling for her. He had always seemed to be opposed to romantic relationships with humans.

„All these years, Josef, you're ranting how it could never work between us and humans."

He stood up. „What happened to Sarah is proof that I'm right."

I didn't think so. What happened to her proofed nothing, it was nobody's fault. That he fell in love proofed something to me. I told him that this changed a lot for me, that it made me think everything is possible.

He admitted that love changed people, that it could show you a part of yourself you never knew existed. But this was even more to me. I thought I had lost the ability to love, and the ability to love myself. I thought I had lost my soul, forever. But I hadn't. Beth showed me that I was still alive, and capable of love, and maybe even worthy of being loved.

Seeing Josef so open and vulnerable in this room was quite a shock for me, I couldn't keep my eyes off him, watching him watch Sarah with this face that was absolutely yearning, blissful and sad at the same time. It was so clearly visible here, but everywhere else he held on to this cold as ice persona, this stock broker without heart. I knew he was a softie on the inside, but I had underestimated his capability of being vulnerable.

What he said next made me look up. „I guess who I am is who I'm supposed to be." I looked at him, then at Sarah. How could he be so cool with the situation? He had 50 years to get there, but still. If Beth was in her place, I don't know if I could stand it.

Maybe he was even more in tune with me than I thought, because he was talking about Beth next. „You gonna try and make the thing with Beth work?" I exhaled. This was difficult. „I hope the universe is on your side." Well, I hoped that, too, but for starters I would never try to turn her.

Before we could explore this further, Beth came in. She had been sitting with Polly, maybe eating something. I didn't want her to see the gruesome details of vampire maintenance.

She asked Josef if he was okay. He softly said: „I will be." Then he joked with her by giving an exaggerated complain about being staked. I sensed a new kind of connection between them. I couldn't quite make out how she was feeling about all this. She was concerned about something, that much I could sense in her voice and her body language. She seemed sad, confused and somehow regretful. But she was bonding with Josef on a new level that wasn't there before. She had seen him once or twice now, and had seen him from a side that even I didn't see in 50 years. Maybe as a woman she could see still another side of this situation. I wanted to talk with her about Sarah, about Josef, and about what she thought about this. About us.

She asked Josef if he would come back to L.A. with us. He told her he was going to stay for a while. I guess he needed more time to come to terms with what happened. But he implied he would come back., and that made me happy. Not having lost my friend, and having found more of him than I would have thought possible, I suddenly felt some kind of new hope inside me. Hope that things would work out.

Beth gave him the diary. It seemed to me that she acted on behalf of Sarah. Could she relate to her so much? He took the small handwritten book and was immediately tearing up. I took this as our cue to leave, to give him some privacy. I touched Beth's arm and we left the room. In the door I turned back to see if he would maybe say something more or tell us to stay. But he was lost to the world, on some memory lane, so I left him alone.

We took our coats and said goodbye to Polly, who told us she would soon be released and go home. It had been a hard day for her, too. Rushing down the stairs to the street I realized it was cold and already late. Beth came down behind me, and we walked a little. The fresh air was doing me a world of good. I had felt almost stifled by witnessing Josef's emotion, it was so unusual to see him this way.

I was now able to focus on Beth. She seemed shaken. I asked if she was alright. She admitted that she was thinking about Sarah. Guess she wasn't as focused on Josef's heartbreak as I was, but on Sarah. Lying there, unmoving, almost dead, not able to die, that's no life.

„She was so in love with him." she said and looked away, smiling.

I don't really know what to say to that. I use the same commonplaces that you use when someone tells you their nephew had cancer or their uncle died in a car crash. „Yeah, it's terrible". How could I bring this conversation towards us now?

„Do you really think there is a cure?" she asked.

What brought that on? Did she just change the topic, or was she in hope that a cure could help Sarah? Maybe it would.

I told her that I didn't know much. Coraline made herself human, but what else did we really know? Thinking of Coraline made me realize that I had the chance of my life right before me to make things right, to win Beth's heart. I didn't want to live without her. Coraline had been my obsession, but I was free now. She had tricked me and had paid the price. I would deal with her when we got home. For this night, I wanted to live the moment. I had to smile about myself getting all worked up about this.

I called a taxi for us, then I invited her to spend a night on town, have some fun. I suggested some things, music, dinner, whatever. I just wanted to be with her and explore this feelings I hadn't really acknowledged before. I felt like I could take on the world.

She smiled at me. She was so beautiful in the light of the street lamps, her hair was glistening, her eyes were shining.

But Beth was as always the voice of reason. „Our flight leaves in a couple of hours." Opening the door of the taxi for her I insisted. „So we take a later flight."

Her face fell. She hesitated. „Look, I don't know. I didn't leave things very well with Josh. I do think I need to get home."

That hurt. I had totally forgotten that she had a boyfriend. And I had the feeling she had forgotten that too, before, but now she rejected me and ran home to him. Convenient. Something was up. I swallowed hard.

She watched me and looked apologetic when she saw my dissappointment. „But I'll drop you."

I couldn't stand it. How could I stay with her for one more moment? It would be awkward. I needed to get away. So I told her I would walk, and tried a little joke. But it came out bitter.

She climbed into the cab and I closed the door. Was everything lost? Did she reject me forever, or would she go home to properly break up with him. There was tension between them, I could see it from a mile, but still. She ran back to him.

I couldn't help myself and layed my hand onto the window, seeking contact, seeking hope that this wasn't the end. Since the fountain the barriers between us had been dropping, but now she had built them back up again. Was it fear? Had she seen too much of what vampires were capable of when she saw Sarah? Couldn't she trust me that I wouldn't do this to her?

She put her hand over my hand from the other side, and smiled. I smiled back. There was hope. She still was my friend. If I couldn't have more I would have to make do with what I could have. Life was not about what I wanted. I took my hand away reluctantly and walked away.

I needed this night of solitude, to reaquaint myself with the feeling of being alone, isolated from the living. I had forgotten how to do this since Beth came into my life, but I would have to relearn. For her sake, and for mine. Because pining away for her when she clearly wasn't interested would just make my life more miserable, and stalking her again was not an option.

At least I would have Josef back. Maybe I should threaten to kill him for making Beth reconsider living with a vampire. That would really be fun.


End file.
